


The Secrets that you Keep II

by Eldalire



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Baby, Parents, dad!enjolras
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-11-07 23:31:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11069343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eldalire/pseuds/Eldalire
Summary: I was asked to continue a story I originally thought I was finished with, so here it is!This is not a stand-alone and will not make sense if you haven't read the first part.Read the first part here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11019339/chapters/24556071





	The Secrets that you Keep II

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Enjelica](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enjelica/gifts).



Enjolras was like a different person once he introduced Grantaire to his little girl. It was like the weight of the universe had been lifted from his chest, that he could finally breathe.

They began spending more time together, not only with each other, but with Charlemagne—Charlie, her family called her—and she and Grantaire soon became peas in a pod.

 

R started to join in on some of Charlie’s morning lessons, which Enjolras taught, in an effort to learn at least a little bit of sign language. He wanted nothing more than to communicate with the little girl, and she most certainly appreciated his effort, though she was hardly 5 years old.

            “We are learning about the oceans,” Enjolras explained out loud as he signed with his hands. Charlemagne made a confused sort of face—she, like many in the deaf community, was very expressive with her face—and moved her hands, first circling her two pointer fingers, then placing one hand on top of the other and sliding it backwards. After that, she made a sign Grantaire actually recognized as ‘why?’, tapping her forehead then making the letter ‘y’ with her hand. Enjolras chuckled, then replied simply with crossed fingers, ‘R’.

            “What’s funny?” Grantaire asked, making the sign for ‘what?’, one he used often. Charlemagne chuckled brightly, a laugh so different from other children, but just as joyous.

            “She asked why I was signing so slowly, and I told her I was doing it for you,” he explained, signing at the same time, keeping Charlie in the loop. She giggled again. Grantaire always found it so interesting when Charlemagne made noises, often at inappropriate times, sometimes very loud, other times quiet. He had such trouble wrapping his head around not being able to hear yourself laugh or cry or shout, and he wondered if Charlemagne knew when she was vocalizing or not. Sometimes it seemed like she didn’t, but other times, she would give a coo or a hum or a little call to get Enjolras’ attention.

            “I’m learning!” Grantaire said, making the sign for ‘student’ instead of ‘learn’. Charlie laughed again, nearly falling off her chair before taking Grantaire’s large, work-worn hands in her perfect, little tiny ones, showing him the correct sign. In R’s defense, they were somewhat similar.

            “Thank you,” he signed when she smiled at him.

            “That’s enough silliness!” Enjolras said and signed with a grin, laughing himself. “Oceans. Sign the words to me, please,” he presented the baby with a sheet of paper, words like ‘fish’ and ‘sand’ and ‘swim’ written in Enjolras’ impeccable handwriting in pink marker—Charlemagne’s favorite color. She looked to the words, thinking for a long moment, before making the sign for ‘fish’. Enjolras gave her a thumbs up. Things continued quite smoothly until the word for ‘beach’, the most challenging word on the list. She looked at it for a good while, trying the sign for ‘seashell’ before Enjolras showed her the correct sign, having her repeat it a few times, then point to the written word.

            Charlemagne’s teacher didn’t come on Saturdays or Sundays, and Enjolras was off work for the weekend, so the three of them decided to spend the afternoon at the fair. It came once a year, early in the summer, and this was the first year Charlie would be big enough to go. She saw a flier for it while they were out for ice cream the previous weekend, and had been talking about it all week. Enjolras assured her they would go.

            Charlemagne didn’t seem to understand that a county fair is where you ride rickety teacup spinners, toss darts at ancient targets, and eat straight-up grease, and insisted on wearing an outfit far too dressy for the occasion. It was a sweet little dress her Aunt Cosette bought for her, and she loved to wear it, but she looked like a fairy princess in a sea of grubby little troll kids and their disinterested parents/wranglers.   But she didn’t seem to mind, and if she was happy, Enjolras was happy.

            She immediately skipped ahead, her string of tickets flowing behind her, straight to a small cart with a lot of lights and a big rotating statue of cotton candy on the top. Enjolras hurried after her, and Grantaire laughed.

            _Stay close please,_ he signed to her, catching her arm as she ran. She nodded, but pointed to the booth. _You want some?_ He signed. She nodded, giving a little hop.

            “I haven’t had cotton candy since I was like, fifteen,” Grantaire said, scooping up Charlemagne and placing her on his shoulders, her hands in his wiry curls. Enjolras handed her a big cone of pink cotton candy. She was very pleased, and shouted loudly in simple joy.

            “Enjolras,” R asked as they walked, Charlemagne too interested in her spun sugar to care much what was being said.

            “Yes?” he smiled, looking up to Grantaire, who was at least a head taller than he was.

            “Does Charlie know when she’s making noise? Well, not noise, I guess, but…vocalizing?”

            “Sometimes,” he replied, “she knows if I’m not looking at her or in another room and she needs me she can make a sound and I’ll come, but she probably didn’t realize she shouted just now,” he shrugged. “It usually doesn’t matter much. There are very few places you can’t make any sound at all. And she will be quiet if I ask her to,”

            “How can she stay quiet if she doesn’t realize she’s making noise?”

            “She keeps her mouth closed,” Enjolras laughed, as if it were obvious…it was obvious. Grantaire chuckled.

            Charlemagne finished her cotton candy and gave Grantaire a gentle kick. He looked up, and signed ‘what?’

            “Ahh,” she cooed, pointing downwards. He lifted her off his shoulders and let her walk.

            Not a second later, Grantaire found himself being hugged from behind, around his waist, by two skinny, stick-like arms. Enjolras smiled and greeted Feuilly as Jehan embraced Grantaire.

            “Oh it’s so good to see you, darling,” Jehan cooed.

            “I saw you on Thursday night,” Grantaire replied with a smile, looking down to Jehan. Enjolras was short by most measures of young men: 5’5, but Jehan was even shorter than he was, and he couldn’t weigh more than 115lbs soaking wet.

            “Oh I know but it’s still so nice to see you!” he grinned, and turned to the baby. _Hello Charlemagne!_ He signed. She waved back.

            Grantaire found out shortly after being introduced to Charlemagne that most of Enjolras’ friends knew her. Joly was actually her pediatrician, Courfeyrac and Combeferre were very close with Enjolras, and sometimes babysat. Jehan was one of Enjolras friends from elementary school, and he was Charlemagne’s Godfather. (Cosette was her Godmother, of course.) In fact, Bahorel was the only one who found out after Grantaire, but with help, Enjolras was able to introduce her.

            Charlie yanked on Enjolras’ shirt in an attempt to get his attention. He held up a finger, _one second,_ and she scrunched her nose.

            “We’re going to get drinks, want to come?” Feuilly asked, motioning to the picnic area, where a bar was set up inside the gazebo.

            “Nah, we’re going to do Charlemagne’s thing, I think. But thanks,” Enjolras smiled. “She’s never been to a fair before. She’s very excited about the Ferris Wheel,”

            “Well have fun! I’m sure our paths will cross again!” Jehan smiled, taking Feuilly’s hand and heading towards the picnic tables.

            “Alright, now,” Enjolras turned to his side, meaning to see what Charlie wanted, but she wasn’t there. “Where did Charlemagne go?” he asked R, fear flashing across his eyes.

            “She was just standing next to you, wasn’t she?” he replied.

            “Oh my God where could she have gone?!” he panicked, looking in the direction Feuilly and Jehan had gone, but they were already sitting at a table, alone.

            “Charlemagne!” Grantaire called.

            “That won’t help!” Enjolras nearly shouted at Grantaire looked around.

            “Oh right…I forgot,”

            “We have to look for her! You go check the bathroom, I’ll look by the Ferris Wheel…I can’t imagine where else she’d go. Oh my God! Oh my God what am I going to do!?”

            “Calm down,” Grantaire took Enjolras’ shoulders in his hands. “It’s okay. We’ll find her. She couldn’t have gone far. I’ll check the bathroom, you go check the rides. Call me if anything, okay?” Enjolras nodded, fractionally less terrified. He hurried off to the Ferris Wheel.

 

Charlemagne was very thirsty. All that sugar was making her teeth numb, and she did not want to wait for her daddy to finish his conversation. But she had tickets. That’s what her daddy used to pay for the cotton candy. She could probably buy herself a lemonade the same way, so she marched off to the nearby tent. She’d be back before they even realized she was gone!

            She stood on her toes and looked over the tall counter, a woman in a paper lemon hat greeting her with a smile and a wave. She said something, but Charlemagne paid little attention. Instead she pointed to the small cup and handed the woman all of her tickets.

            “Oh thank you,” the woman replied, “but I just need one!” she tore off a ticket and returned the rest to Charlemagne. She passed her a cup of lemonade with a striped straw before waving goodbye. The little girl skipped back to her daddy and R.

 

But they weren’t there. She panicked, for a second, looking all around, frightened, but after a moment, she took off walking, deciding to look for them. But then she looked to her tickets. Playing a quick game of balloon darts would only take a second…and she was sure she could win one of those big stuffed bears…

            Charlie approached the man behind the counter and handed him her tickets. He passed her three darts, and pointed to a red balloon amidst the many blue ones. Though she couldn’t hear the instructions, she assumed she was trying to hit the red balloons, seeing as there were far less of them, so she pulled her arm back and tossed a dart. And what do you know! She popped a red balloon! The man clapped his hands, and Charlie waved her hands—The sign equivalent of clapping. When the man saw, he seemed to realize Charlemagne couldn’t hear, and started moving his mouth a lot more when he talked, though it did Charlie little good. He pointed to another red balloon and held up two fingers. Two more? She guessed that’s what he meant.

            She gave a little jump and threw the second dart, trying to hit the highest red balloon. She missed that one, but the dart hit another one on the way down, and she cried out with joy. The man waved his hands, how Charlemagne had done a moment ago.   She jumped up and down, and took the third and final dart. It was honestly just sheer luck that the hit any of the balloons at all, but the third was not an exception, and she burst a third red balloon. The lights of the booth flashed every different color, and the little girl laughed and laughed as the man pointed to the row of oversized stuffed animals hanging from the ceiling. She pointed to a big, fuzzy bunny, bigger than her, and the man took it down with a hook, handing it to her. She signed _thank you!_ before going on her way.

 

“Have you seen a little girl, she’s five, dark hair in braids, yellow dress?” Enjolras asked the man operating the Ferris Wheel.

            “Sorry, Monsieur,” he replied, shaking his head. “What’s her name, I’ll ask kids in line,”

            “Her name’s Charlemagne, but she’s deaf,” Enjolras explained. “If you think you see her, please give her shoulder a tap and do this…” he placed his fingertips together, then acted as if he dropped something. “That means lost. She has a bracelet with my phone number,”

            “I’ll keep a look out!” the operator said, “Good luck!”

            “Thanks…” Enjolras kept running, looking around, trying to think where else she would go. He suddenly regretted letting her hold all of the tickets. Now she could do whatever she wanted: get on a ride, play games, go inside the fun house…she could be anywhere! He decided to try the row of game stalls next…

 

Grantaire made his way to the shed-like structure at the edge of the fairground: the bathrooms. He stood outside the women’s room and tried to lean inside to see if he could see Charlemagne, but all he got was a nice whack from a pocketbook.

            “What do you think you’re doing?!” a woman asked, pulling a small can of pepper spray.

            “I’m sorry, I’m looking for a little girl—” that sounded bad.

            “WHAT?! What do you want with a little girl!? I should report you!”

            “No! I mean…She’s my-my daughter, I can’t find her,” he said quickly, deciding ‘she’s my boyfriend’s daughter’ was slightly too difficult to follow, and he didn’t want to get pepper sprayed.

            “Oh dear I’m sorry! What’s her name, I’ll call for her,”

            “She’s deaf,” he explained. “She’s got dark hair in two braids and a yellow dress. She’s got pink light up sneakers on. Would you mind looking for me?” he asked.

            “Of course, just a minute,” the woman returned to the bathroom and inspected the shoes under the stall doors. No tiny light up shoes. “I’m sorry, I don’t see her in there, but I’ll keep an eye out!” she assured him. Grantaire sighed heavily. Where else should he look? He had only known Charlemagne a few weeks, and wasn’t all that sure what she liked or where she would go. Fun house? Kids like fun houses…he decided to walk over.

 

Charlemagne, her giant bunny under one arm, her lemonade in the other hand, wandered the fairground aimlessly. What was she to do now? She was getting very tired of carrying her bunny, and really wanted her daddy. Her eyes began to tear, and soon she was making quite a racket crying, though she didn’t notice.

            A woman approached her, concerned, and crouched to look her in the eye.

            “Do you need help, sweetie?” she asked. Charlie wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, still holding her half-empty lemonade. “Sweetie Pie?” the woman tried again. Charlemagne wasn’t sure what to do. Her hands were full, and without them, she couldn’t communicate. She held out her lemonade and her bunny to the woman, who took them, puzzled. Charlie then spread her fingers and tapped her forehead with her thumb: _daddy_. That was the first sign she had learned, and assumed everyone would know that one. The woman didn’t know what Charlemagne was trying to say, but she did realize the little girl was either deaf or couldn’t speak.

            “Can you hear me?” she asked, pointing to her ear. Charlemagne just looked at her, wishing she knew what the woman was trying to say. She began to cry again. “I guess not…Can you write?” she attempted, making the motion of writing in the air. All she knew how to write was her first name, but she nodded. The woman set the bunny and the lemonade down on a nearby bench and took a tiny notebook and pen from her bag. Charlemagne wrote her name, struggling to fit it onto the little piece of paper. It took up two lines.

            “That’s your name?” she asked. Charlie wished she would stop trying to say words to her. It was making her very frustrated. She wiped her eyes again, her bracelet tickling her cheek—

 

Her bracelet!  
  
“Ahh,” she mumbled, pointing to her wrist, where a bracelet made of pony beads was always tied. On one side, it read ‘deaf’, on the other, Enjolras’ phone number. The woman read her bracelet and gave Charlemagne a thumbs up. Finally, something she understood! She smiled, and the woman invited her to sit beside her on the bench. She did, sitting in her bunny’s lap. The woman dialed her phone.

 

Enjolras jumped when he felt his phone buzz. He didn’t recognize the number, but picked it up almost immediately.

            “Yes hello?” he babbled, hoping it wasn’t something stupid. He had to find his baby girl!

            “Hi, um, did you know a little girl named Charlemagne?”

            “Yes! Yes do you have her?!”

            “I do! She was very lost and very upset, but she’s alright now! We’re on the bench near the spinning teacups!”

            “Oh my God thank you so much I was so worried! I’ll be right there! Please stay with her for just a minute,”

            “Of course!” Enjolras hung up, and ran to the teacups, shortly seeing his baby girl sitting with a young woman. When Charlemagne saw him, she slid off the bench and leapt into his arms. He held her for a long moment.

            _I’m sorry_ he signed.

            _I’m sorry I went away_ she replied.

            _But I found you! I’m glad!_ Charlemagne smiled.

            “Thank you so much for sitting with her,” Enjolras said as he stood.

            “No problem!” the woman replied. “That bracelet is a great idea! I felt so badly, I didn’t know what she was saying or how to help,”

            “It’s challenging sometimes,” he agreed. “But no harm done. Everyone is back where they’re supposed to be,” he smiled as Charlemagne collected her bunny and handed it to Enjolras, sipping her lemonade.

            _Where did you get this?_ he asked.

            _I won!_ She signed, giving a little hop and a giggle.

            “Anyhow, thank you again!” he gave the woman a wave as they went their separate ways.

            _Where did you win?_ Enjolras asked. Charlemagne shoved her now empty cup under her arm and signed _balloon_ , pointing to the booth, where the kind man waved at her. Enjolras smiled.

            _I’m glad you had fun,_ she nodded.

 

Enjolras texted Grantaire, and the three of them met at the front gate, the sun just setting. R scooped up Charlie when he saw her and gave her a big hug, then made the sign for ‘good’: it was the closest he knew to ‘happy’ or ‘glad you’re back’. Charlemagne seemed to understand, though she chuckled, and hugged Grantaire back as he held her.

            “Charlemagne had herself a little fun without us,” Enjolras said, showing Grantaire the big grey bunny.

            _I won!_ Charlemagne signed.

            “She says she won,” Enjolras translated. “She threw some balloon darts all by herself and won herself this nice bunny,” Grantaire laughed and held up a hand for a high five. Charlemagne giggled.

            “Where was she?” Grantaire asked as they left the fairground, making the mile walk back home.

            “A woman found her and called the number on her bracelet,” Enjolras explained, Charlemagne asleep in Grantaire’s arms. “I was so scared…I’ve never lost her like that before…She doesn’t really get out much, I guess…”

            “Did you ever look into schools or anything for her?”

            “I have, but…I’m so worried something will happen, or they won’t teach her properly…There aren’t any schools for the deaf close by. She would have to go to a regular school with an interpreter, and I just…I don’t know,”

            “I mean, she’s your kid, not mine, but I’d try to put her in school, if I were you. You never know. Maybe she’ll love it. She might make some friends too,”

            “How, though? Nobody will be able to communicate to her,”

            “Kids make friends without even talking to each other or anything. They just start playing and everything else is just…whatever,” he smiled. “But do what you think is best. I hardly know the kid,” he chuckled as he looked to Charlie, her head on his shoulder, fast asleep and limp in his arms.

            “Maybe you’re right,” Enjolras replied, unlocking the door. “If it isn’t for her, I can always teach her at home again,”

            “Right. Maybe in the fall,”

            “Maybe.”

 

Grantaire carried Charlemagne up the stairs and into her bedroom, the perfect space for a little girl. The walls were pale green below a chair rail, and light pink above, with a white painted, wrought iron bedframe. The bed was covered in stuffed animals, and a delicate canopy hung from the ceiling.

            “This room is so cute,” Grantaire grinned, looking to one of the little watercolor illustrations on the wall while Enjolras changed her into her pajamas. Charlemagne hardly stirred.

            “Cosette did all of it,” Enjolras smiled. “And my mom. They were so excited,” He kissed the baby’s head, then followed Grantaire downstairs.

            “I guess I’ll see you later then,” he offered a wave and turned to leave.

            “You…I mean, you can stay, if you want to,” Enjolras babbled. His cheeks turned red.

            “Yeah I’ll hang out for a while,” he smiled.

            “I mean, like…you can sleep here. I don’t want you to walk home in the dark all alone,”

            “Oh. Are you sure? It’s alright, I’ll be fine—”

            “No, I want you to. Please stay,” Enjolras too his hand.

            “Alright, I guess I’ll stay then,” he put his forehead against Enjolras’, their noses nearly touching, before moving in slowly for a kiss—Their first, real one. They stayed that way for a while, very close, Enjolras hand in Grantaire’s, the other on his shoulder, Grantaire’s on his lower back. Enjolras smiled when they finally pulled away.

            “I haven’t done that in a very long time,” Enjolras admitted.

            “Me neither, actually,” R replied with his goofy grin. Enjolras laughed.

            “It was nice,”

            “It was very nice,”

            “You’re still sleeping on the couch, though,” Enjolras added, all love and fluff lost from his voice, completely serious. Grantaire laughed, the mood completely lost.

            “I’ll get the spare pillow from the closet,” R said. Enjolras smiled.

             
  
  
  
Hurray!


End file.
